Long ago, in the mist-veiled kingdom of Thaloria, lived a man beloved for his words.
He was a storyteller—one of the greatest.
With his voice, silence turned to fire.
Dreams became kingdoms.
Beside him was his wife, a gifted bard whose music gave his tales breath and heartbeat.
Together, their stories built worlds.
And from those worlds… a child was born.
The boy grew up wrapped in legends.
He knew dragons before he could walk.
Knew devils before he could speak.
But he did not know—
that his father had written something he was never meant to touch.
---
It began with a book.
Ancient. Bound in black.
Discovered beneath the royal archives—sealed and long forgotten.
No title.
No author.
Just pages... blank.
Until his father wrote upon them.
> He called it The Gossipers' Karma—
A playful tale about liars and whispers.
Nothing serious.
Nothing dangerous.
Or so he thought.
But the book was no ordinary parchment.
Each word awakened something.
Something old.
Something watching.
And soon…
Those who spoke the tale's name began to die.
Whispers turned into screams.
Gossip became grave silence.
Mouths sewn shut by invisible hands.
The father—once adored—became feared.
And when the curse could no longer be denied…
He vanished.
Some say he was taken.
Others say he burned the book… and himself with it.
His wife, the bard—
whose music once gave his stories life—
vanished not long after.
Some say she went searching for him.
Others say the book took her too.
No one ever saw her again.
---
But the boy remained.
He had a sister once—
younger, softer, always clinging to their mother's skirts.
But one day… she vanished too.
No note. No farewell. No trace.
Some say the curse took her.
But Leo believed otherwise.
He believed… she ran.
Now, he was truly alone.
Burdened with a story that should never have been told.
And a name people only dared speak—in whispers.
---
☾ The Dream
Years passed.
The boy became a man.
But the curse never left.
One night, he dreamed of the book again.
He saw it—
floating above a broken city, soaked in silence.
He walked the ruins of Valmora, where laughter once echoed.
Now, only whispers remained.
And with every whisper… someone died.
> "Did you hear what she said—"
"It's about that story, the one calle—"
"The Gossip—"
Gone.
Each voice vanished mid-word.
Erased by an unseen force.
And in the center of the ruins… the book waited.
Its pages turned without wind.
Its cover glowed faintly,
marked by a cursed title:
> The Gossipers' Karma
He couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
He felt it watching him.
And then… he heard it:
> "The story isn't done."
---
☀️ The Realization
He woke in a cold sweat.
And for the first time in years,
he understood.
The curse was still alive.
Still listening.
Still killing.
And it would not end on its own.
That night, beneath a moonless sky,
he stared at the horizon and whispered:
> "It ends with me."
"I will find the book."
"I will stop it."
And if she's still out there… I will find her too."